Out of the Deep

By Ekam Singh

There are many mysteries that man has not yet figured out and many of them are in the Sea. Robert and Lydia are explorers who are looking for the lost wreck of the MV Hermoine but they discover more than a lost ship.

Come join these two explorers as they search the ocean for mysteries and discover more than the mind can handle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Epic Worlds, LLC
• Release date: Jun 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201804947

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Wrath

Winter 1983

The color of the sky had gone dark, and the silent air bearing in all the gloom seemed to scrape the world of every remnant of felicity. The fluffy clouds had by now eschewed the place only to be replaced by the grey, dark shadows which instilled no hint of mercy in their moisture. It had been an hour that the sky had gone berserk, and after each minute wriggled past in deadly silence, a boisterous roar of the thunder rumbled in the dark sky, making it light up with a glorious silver. With every strike of magnificent lightning, the grey sea glowed up brilliantly, and it seemed as if the slumbering waves were getting charged up. Dense pellets of rain had started coming down in perpetual streams, getting happily ingested by the ravenous seawater.

As the rain clicked on the waves, the heaving sea took a wild turn, and the deep waves residing somewhere low at a subterranean level usurped the light, shallow waves. The rising tides delivered the wrath of the gods, and with each giant, foamy crest rising, the pitiful troughs were being engulfed relentlessly. Blinding darkness enshrouded the sky, and thin threads of silver liquid were snaking their way out of the thick, heavy clouds, lighting up the sea mysteriously. The bright blue of the sea was nowhere to be sighted, and the choppy water had turned a dark slate-grey. The rotund, hazy moon was getting mirrored stealthily on the dancing waves, making the quaking silver float in the rebellious water. With each passing minute, the sea was getting more turbulent; every hindrance intended to stand vis-à-vis the horrendous waves had no chance to make it out alive. Such was the case with MV Hermione.

The deafening sound of the churning propeller was resonating all through the vessel, and hardly a human voice would cut through the drumming of the lofty engine to make out successfully to the recipient's ears. It was the fourth day that MV Hermione was in the sea, and the weather could not be any clear; a light blue hue painted the clear sky, and the placid water opened up the path unresistingly to the freighter's engine. The mighty freighter was a sight to reckon; a gigantic steel foremast boastfully crowing the façade and massive foredeck spanning a long, tiring distance. The accommodation was also spacious enough for the crew, and there was enough ration to satisfy a week's journey. The sun was about to drown down the far expanse of horizon, contemplated the man standing at the foremast; it was just about the time for a different ship, and the young man, with a light bronze beard, curbed a big yawn. Moving away from the mast, he dawdled tiringly towards the cabin near the bridge. A young, fresh sailor was already there to take his place.

Bowing him a little, the elderly sailor was soon out of sight. Coming near the round, spiraling staircase, the man eyed the closed wooden door, underneath the stairs, with all the packed curiosity in his heart; this door never suffered to open, and none knew what lay within it. Once, he happened to catch a rumor that a cursed treasure lied the other side of the door. Curiosity had started taking wild turns in his heart, and though his brain was telling not to pay any heed to the jolting emotion, his heart had already succumbed. Although his heart was at rest as he knew that the captain and the crew would be fast asleep, he tiptoed his feet, easing his way to the dark space under the staircase, and halted inches to the door. Lengthening his trembling hands, he rotated the doorknob, which was cold to the touch. After a minute's effort, the door clicked, and a small ray of dusty, white light streamed out of the tiny opening. Squinting his strained eyes, he stepped into the empty room. There were two lanterns at the farther ends of the room, and thick webs carpeted the corners of the old, patchy walls. The room was open and spacious as no furniture resided in the place. He was spanning his achingly curious eyes across the room, his jolting heart about to ease down, and his exacerbating curiosity inches away to wane in thin air when his sprawling gaze got arrested by an antiquated box lying